


Happy

by allie_88 (alaranth_88)



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-03
Updated: 2011-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:59:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaranth_88/pseuds/allie_88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst! Gwaine makes Merlin happy, Arthur is a jealous prat, and Merlin is lost and confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy

Merlin couldn't pinpoint the one moment when he fell in love with Arthur.

He thought it must have been gradual process, occurring in tiny increments with every small moment of genuine kindness the prince gave him, scattered through the usual bickering and abuse until that same abuse was the hall-mark of their closeness. Arthur would be tease and torment with a sly smile on his face, Merlin would give as good as he got, and then they would laugh together until they were out of breath and gasping and Gwen and Morgana would stare at them as if they were both completely mad.

Saving each other's lives a few dozen times along the way probably helped his feelings along, of course - certainly couldn't have done them any harm. But Merlin knew the heady rush he felt when Arthur looked at him, the stirring he tried to suppress whenever the prince wandered half-naked around his chambers, the joy that sang in his heart whenever he received one of Arthur's brilliant smiles - this was more than friendship or gratitude or loyalty. It was, he felt, three parts love, one part exasperation, and one part destiny.

And he knew Arthur would never, could never return his feelings. No matter what happened, things would remain between them as they always had been - this close friendship and not-love that was so strong Merlin couldn't bear to think of ever being without it. Gwen would love Arthur enough for both of them, enough that it wouldn't matter if Merlin never told his prince how much he meant to him. And they would continue to laugh and bicker together as they built kingdom and a legend.

But now things were changing. Merlin could feel the distance growing between them as they days rolled by, as bickering and smiles turned to just bickering. As what had been teasing, playful instructions turned to simple orders. As Arthur seemed to move away from him, and Merlin seemed powerless not to let him go.

Merlin didn't know why they had started to grow apart. It was probably his fault. He thought it likely that keeping a secret as monumental as his sorcery had been the root of the divide, as if Arthur could somehow sense that Merlin had never trusted him with the truth that had saved them so often, the truth that would get Merlin killed. Then soon there were more secrets - his poisoning of Morgana, Balinor, the dragon. They just kept piling up, and as they did so the gap grew. But even knowing why this had happened, knowing it had probably been inevitable, nothing not change how much it hurt when Arthur ignored him, disdained him, threw things at him.

There had always been a lightness to their insults and banter before, a smile behind the mocking words the prince aimed at his servant every day. These days Merlin couldn't see it, no matter how hard he looked. The smile still appeared occasionally, when Arthur was about to do something stupid and noble and brilliant, and he would shine bright with the king he would become. He would be as vivid and dazzling as the magic that pulsed in Merlin's chest, and Merlin would bask in the warmth of it and be happy. And then the light would disappear again as if it had never been, and Arthur would snap and snarl as if they had never saved each other's lives, fought beasts and monsters from legend, never tried to die so the other would live.

Merlin was so tired of trying to get through the barriers that had grown between them. It felt like he was banging his head on a brick wall, day in and day out. Arthur would always have his loyalty, but he had thought there was more between them than just that. These days he wasn't sure. And he was so sick of not knowing where he stood. He tried everything he could think of to try to keep them close, keep their friendship alive as he felt his role shift from friend-and-servant to servant-and-idiot-and-who-even-knew-what. He knew Arthur still cared about him, still valued him, but he didn't feel valued or cared for. He felt lonely and uncertain, and he gave as good as he got to try to make Arthur just look at him. Look and see Merlin, a worthwhile companion and a loyal friend.

 

When Gwaine smiled at him, it was easy. When they laughed together, sitting polishing rows and rows of boots, it was simple and care-free. Gwaine was fun, and Merlin couldn't remember the last time he'd had fun.

The other man treated him as if he _mattered_ , as if his thoughts and feelings were counted for something. He sought Merlin's opinion, asked Merlin for help if he needed it, checked up him when he thought Merlin might be in trouble and helped him when he was.

When Gwaine defended him, stood up for him, and protected him, Merlin had to swallow against the despair of _this should be Arthur_ , but he appreciated it all the same. Gwaine was a good friend, and it made Merlin realise just how bad things had become between him and the prince.

Merlin hadn't realised just how sick he was of being treated like a fool. He knew Gaius loved him, and he loved the old man too, but lately the physician only seemed to frown and tell him off for something or another. Gwen was so wrapped up in Arthur and in her newly-returned mistress, they barely saw each other any more. As for Arthur - the prince almost never treated him as anything other than a complete idiot and waste of space. Merlin had savoured the rare times when Arthur had asked for his advice or help, when he had been trusted, but these moments were few and far between, and most of his time was spent dodging thrown goblets and being ignored.

Now Gwaine was asking, trusting, and looking at him - _all the time_. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had paid him so much attention, and had so genuinely cared about Merlin. That was what hit hardest.

He was sick of being taken for granted.

 

~~~~~~

 

The door slammed open with a loud bang. Merlin had time for a moment of heart-stopping panic as he pulled his mouth away from Gwaine's firm shoulder to confirm his worst fears. He felt his heart sink. Arthur stood framed in the doorway and his blue gaze was icy as he glared at the two men entwined on Merlin's small bed.

"What are you doing with Merlin?" Arthur demanded, sounding incredulous.

"What does it look like?" Gwaine replied, unfazed. He stared up at the prince over Merlin's shoulder, raising a questioning brow. "Are you blind as well as stupid, princess?"

Merlin tried to squirm out of Gwaine's hold, trying to hide his nakedness and obvious arousal from the prince as a bright blush spread from his ears down his chest. The larger man held him firm. "Don't be embarrassed, Merlin, he's the one who should be ashamed. Barging into your room unannounced, what did he expect to find?" This was accompanied with a mocking glare, and Arthur flushed.

Merlin wanted desperately the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Then he quickly quashed that thought before his magic could react - outing himself as a sorcerer now was probably the only thing that could make this worse. He buried his face in Gwaine's neck, closing his eyes against the fury on Arthur's face. Gwaine's skin still burned with the heat they'd shared, though his necklace was cold against Merlin cheek. The man tangled a hand in Merlin's hair, then ran it slowly down his neck, smirking up at Arthur. Merlin shivered at the touch.

"How dare you interfere with my servant?" the prince snarled. "And you, Merlin, you should know better. Wasting your time with this … this honourless sell-sword!"

A spike of fury stole Merlin's breath. How dare Arthur be so insulting about a man who had saved his life! And he might be Merlin's master, but he had no right to try to control who Merlin spent his time with. Anger roiled in his guts, and he took a deep breath, smelling the sweat he and Gwaine had been raised. He pushed himself up and turned to glare daggers at the prince. "What are you doing here, Arthur?"

 

The prince blinked. "I need you to come and clean …" he trailed off, and Merlin saw his eyes shift, gaze moving down Merlin's body for a few seconds before Arthur swallowed hard and pulled his eyes back to Merlin's face.

"It doesn’t matter. You shouldn't be in here with him. He obviously can't be trusted. We don't even know if he is who he says he is!" Arthur sounded furious, and Merlin couldn't really see why he should be. All his chores were done, it was late afternoon and the prince usually let him have this time to himself. And he'd never had anything against Gwaine before now. Merlin was confused, angry and embarrassed and he just wanted Arthur to leave so he could pretend this had never happened.

"You're too kind, _your highness_ ," Gwaine sneered. Merlin looked back at him, and felt a small shock at the expression on his lover's face. He had never seen Gwaine look quite so forbidding. Always before he had been full of smiles and laughing humour, but now he was deadly serious. He hurled words at Arthur like they were daggers, and from the look on Arthur's face they might have been.

"Merlin doesn't belong to you any more. He may have done before, but you let him slip through your fingers."

Arthur interrupted him. "You dare, Gwaine! I'll have you banished again, I'll have you locked up!"

"All you had to do was treat him like a person, with simple decency and regard. If you had ever properly appreciated the things he does for you, he'd be in your bed right now."

Merlin turned back to look at him, opened his mouth to deny it, but Gwaine quirked a smile at him and kept talking. "Do you think I haven't been paying attention? I'm not blind. I know what you mean to each other. And yet, here he is. You pushed him away, Arthur - you pushed him right into my arms. At least I care about him! And now you come storming in here and try to ruin this for both of us, I won't let you. I won't sit back and let you keep hurting him like you have been. So take your jealousy and temper tantrums somewhere else, because we're busy."

The prince had turned bright red by this point, mouthing wordlessly and stuttering incoherent syllables. "I - he - you…." He couldn't seem to get any words out.

Gwaine looked at him measuringly, then sat back. "Merlin, you can make a choice now. I'll still be your friend if you decide you want me to leave. I can't speak for the princess over there, of course, but I think he'll probably abide by your decision too. If he has half the honour you seem to think he does."

Arthur stood very still for a moment, and Merlin wondered what was going through his mind. Then the prince raised his chin. "I refuse to be pitted against a mercenary or chosen by a servant. Merlin, you will come with me now."

Merlin looked from one to the other, and closed his eyes tight. Rage and sorrow, shame and regret raced through him in an uncontrollable torrent of emotion as he sat, shaking on his bed. He could feel the truth of what Gwaine had said, knew from the look on Arthur's face that the other man had been right in every respect. But how could he choose between them? Did he even have a choice at all?

Opening his eyes, he stared at the beautiful prince standing tall and proud in front of him. _This wasn't how it was supposed to be_ fought with _I have the right to be happy._

He met Arthur's eyes, and made his decision. "I will be with you shortly, sire. Please…" he stopped, took a breath, pushed on. "Please leave."

Merlin couldn't pinpoint the one moment when he fell in love with Arthur. But he knew, with absolute clarity, that this was the moment when he broke Arthur's heart.

The prince's eyes widened and he inhaled jerkily, but then the cold, distant expression Merlin knew to be his court mask settled over his features. He nodded curtly and turned, pulling the door shut behind him.

Merlin collapsed back onto the bed, and at once Gwaine's arms twining were around him, holding him close and warm as he shuddered like a fly-stung horse. Gwaine murmured soft, comforting words as he ran his hands soothingly over Merlin's skin, waiting for him to settle.

When Merlin was calmer, he pulled back and looked up to meet Gwaine's warm brown eyes. "I'm sorry…" he started.

"Shhhh," Gwaine brought his hand up to Merlin's mouth, running a callused finger softly over his lips. "You have no need to apologise. Not for Arthur, not for anything." He smiled his wide, charming smile, bending forward to press his forehead against Merlin's.

"You chose me." Gwaine's voice was soft, incredulous and full of happiness. "Merlin. You chose me."

Merlin blushed again, smiling back, and then Gwaine was kissing him fiercely, possessively, lips pressing tight and tongues twining together, warm and sweet and delicious. Rough stubble scraped Merlin's cheek, but he couldn't bring himself to care, instead pressing closer still and glorying in the warmth spreading steadily outward from his chest. He ran his hands down Gwaine's back, enjoying the smooth softness of the skin, the strength he could feel lying dormant in the powerful muscles.

 _I have the right to be happy._

Gwaine shifted, trying to draw Merlin's body in to wrap around his own, but Merlin pulled back. If he was going to do this, he decided, he would lay all his cards on the table first. Gwaine deserved no less, after what had just happened, what he had offered. He deserved Merlin's trust.

"Gwaine, there's something I should tell you…"


End file.
